


Trick Horse

by Birdlad (Argothia)



Series: Western AU [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Horses, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 02:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11613744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argothia/pseuds/Birdlad
Summary: Dick Grayson is ten years old and he's lost everything.





	Trick Horse

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic we explore Robin's origins in the Western AU.

It's been a week since John and Mary Grayson fell to their deaths in what most believe to be a freak accident. Only a week and already it seems as though Gotham has forgotten the tragic event that left a ten year old boy orphaned. People are milling about on the streets as usual, reading the paper and not even sparing a glance for the story on the front page. In turn none of those stories recount what the Graysons' son had to say. They all proclaim it to be a horrible accident, completely ignoring young Dick who swears it was sabotage.

Bruce is one of the few who knows about Dick's side of the story, as he is already good friends with Sheriff Gordon. He's inclined to agree with Dick's assertion that the boy's parents were murdered by Tony Zucco. That rat's been skulking about the Gotham area for a while now, Bruce even saw him in the crowd shortly before the Graysons fell. Not that that sighting could help Dick's story gain any kind of credence, Zucco has protection. Powerful protection. Bringing him in is going to require working outside the bounds of the law. Which is where Bruce comes in and also the reason he came to town today. He needs to know if Gordon has come up with any new information. Unfortunately he can't go as the Bat. Gordon still doesn't trust the strange outlaw that most people still believe to be a myth. Understandable, but at the very least the sheriff does trust Bruce Wayne. He'll be more inclined to share information with his young friend especially since he knows Bruce will already be invested in this case.

Bruce is determined to solve this case, no matter what he's not going to let another boy spend the rest of his life knowing that his parents' murderer was never brought to justice. Even if that means having to try very hard not to look as miserable as he feels in the bright sunlight as Alfred skillfully directs the mare pulling the carriage down the busy main street. He hasn't slept in a full twenty-four hours, but this trip is important, so he puts up with it all, hoping that Gordon will have some information that makes this all worth it. It's been a long morning already and Bruce can't wait to get it over with. Once the carriage stops in front of the sheriff's office, Bruce quickly steps out onto the street and gives the white mare a grateful pat as he speaks to Alfred. “No need for you to hang about in this heat, Alfred. I shouldn't be more than an hour, but if I do conclude my business before then I'll come find you, alright?”

Alfred nods. “Very good, sir, I will get some shopping done in the meantime.”

“I'll see you later then,” Bruce says with a smile as he turns away. He hops up the few steps to the porch and walks through the open door into the small room where Jim Gordon is sitting behind a desk looking world weary. “Good morning, Jim.”

“Not much good about it I'm afraid, Bruce.” Jim sighs, looking up from the papers he was examining and giving Bruce a half-hearted smile. “What brings you here today?”

Bruce pulls up a chair and sits down across from the sheriff. “I came to see how the Grayson case is going, but I guess I have my answer.”

“Not hide nor hair of Tony Zucco's been seen since the circus.” Jim grumbles tiredly. “Which is just as well, I suppose. Fat lot of good I could do if he did show up.”

Bruce hums and taps his chin with the side of one finger, trying to look thoughtful. “Hm but surely there are places he might be? Old haunts, a local saloon or two?”

“Of course there are.” Jim leans back in his chair with a defeated posture. “He just hasn't been back to them since the incident. I've got Bullock and Montoya watching every location they can in shifts, still haven't seen him. He's gone to ground, Bruce, just waiting for it all to blow over.”

That's not good news. “So you don't have anymore idea where he is then the rest of us, huh?”

“I didn't say that, Bruce. I know where he is… roughly. Whichever one of those rich asses he works for is hiding him.” Jim shakes his head in irritation. “Falcone or Thorne, can't say for sure which it is. Wouldn't matter much if I could. They're untouchable.”

“I see.” Seems like this trip has been productive after all. Falcone and Thorne are both powerful landowners always looking to line their pockets with a little extra money from less than honorable pursuits. Bruce has a good idea which of the two Zucco's working for, but that's not going to be helpful to Jim right now. The sheriff's right. It's out of the hands of the law now. However, it's not yet out of the hands of the Bat. Time for a subject change, another reason Bruce wanted to come to town today. “How's the Graysons' son?”

Jim's expression turns sad as he tilts his head towards the nearest cell. “See for yourself.”

The cell door stands wide open but Bruce soon spots a tiny figure curled up in a blanket on the cot in the back corner. Bruce bites back angry words knowing that this can't possibly be Jim's idea. Instead he asks in confusion, “Surely he's not staying here?”

“There's nowhere else for him.” Jim rubes his temple apparently unable to decide if he's angry, sad, or simply tired. “Nobody in town will take him.”

Bruce frowns. “The orphanage--?”

“Tried it, but Sister Mary brought him back here last night demanding I throw him in a cell because something went missing in the orphanage and she's convinced he took it. Called him a 'thieving gypsy' to his face.” Anger finally wins out as the sheriff turns his head to look at the wall opposite the jail cell. “I tell you, Bruce, I don't think this damn world will get any better. Especially not Gotham. Accusing a kid like that of theft and treating him that way while claiming she's a woman of God… it just ain't right.”

Nodding Bruce shifts his attention back to the small bundle of blankets in the cell. What he can see of the boy's face does not give the impression of a peacefully sleeping child. Dick's expression seems to be twisted up in fear and grief. He can't leave a child like this, in this situation, all alone. “What about if you took him in?”

“I thought about that too and I wish I could, I do.” Jim interrupts with pain in his voice. “But there's barely room enough for me and my wife and daughter in our little cabin. I can't afford the time to build on to it with all the troubles Gotham keeps throwing at me. There's nothing I can do.”

That may be true, but there is something Bruce can do. He can't stand the thought that the boy might have to go through the loss of his parents, his whole world, without a place to call home. If he can do nothing else for the boy, at least he can give him this much. “… He can stay with me.”

Jim nearly falls off his chair in surprise. “What? Bruce, I didn't… I wasn't suggesting… People will talk if you do that! You already have a sour reputation, taking in some random kid, worse a gypsy kid, they'll go absolutely mad trying to slander you.”

“My reputation isn't likely to improve no matter what I do, Jim,” Bruce says with a bitter laugh. “At least this way I'll be doing some good in the cause of soiling the proud name of 'Wayne'.”

Jim looks torn between trying to argue and laughing for a moment, before he finally just gives a quiet chuckle. “Alright then, Bruce, have it your way. I'll get him up and you can take him home as soon as you like. If it turns out you can stand each other, I'll have any necessary papers sent to you.”

“Thank you, Jim.” Bruce says with a smile.

The sheriff just shrugs as he gets up and makes his way over to the cell where Dick is sleeping. “Dick? Wake up, son.”

With a startled snort, Dick sits up. Thick black hair, mussed up from sleep, falls easily into something resembling presentable while bright blue eyes blink a few times to chase away sleep before he looks about in apparent confusion. Finally seeming to register where he is, the boy rubs at his eyes and yawns loudly. “What?”

“Awake enough yet?” Jim asks with a fond smile.

Dick mumbles a lethargic response, “Think so.”

“Then there's someone here that you should meet.” Jim says. “Come on.”

The tiny child scrambles out of the cot and follows Jim to the cell door before catching sight of Bruce. He watches the tall man, warily, as Jim urges him closer, obviously uncertain what to think of this strange, well-dressed man.

Bruce just smiles at him and offers his hand to be shaken. “Hello, Dick, I'm Bruce Wayne.”

“…Hello, sir.” Dick responds, carefully taking the hand and shaking it. He already has an acrobat's grip. Strong and precise.

Jim crouches down to Dick's level. “Dick, I want you to know that I'd trust Bruce with my life and I can't say that about most people in this town so it's pretty impressive.”

Dick's eyes narrow a bit in suspicion, but he doesn't say anything. Just nods.

“Alright, well, he's offered to let you stay with him, but it's up to you,” Jim continues, glancing over at Bruce who deems it best to give no more response than a raised eyebrow. “I can tell you it'd be better than sleeping on an old cot in that jail cell every night.”

The child's frown deepens slightly and he gives Bruce a scrutinizing glare. “Why?”

Bruce exchanges a look with Jim before taking a deep breath and answering, carefully. “Because I have a huge empty mansion full of space that's just going to waste… and I know what it's like… to lose people you love.”

Hard as it was to say, that admission gains him a look of sympathy and Dick finally looks like he's actually thinking it over. After a moment the boy murmurs, hesitantly, “… Alright…”

Bruce smiles sadly. “Great!”

Now how is he going to explain this to Alfred.

***

Dick isn't really sure about this new situation. Actually he hasn't really been sure of anything in days. He used to know things. His parents would protect him, he'd grow up in the circus, life would go on like it always had, but things had changed. Everything he knew was thrown into chaos and now here's this man, Bruce Wayne. He's a stranger, but he reminds Dick of his father in some ways and the sheriff seems to trust him. He seems nice and if Dick's caught his drift right then he's lost his parents too. Dick doesn't really want to hope that he's finally safe again, after all he thought he was safe at the orphanage, look how well that turned out, but maybe he can give it a shot. It's not like he has anything to lose.

Mr Wayne seems positive of his decision though, so that's a good sign. For a little while he stays where he is talking to the sheriff for quite a long while. Dick taking over the sheriff's chair and watching them both chat and laugh like the old friends Dick supposes they are. Then finally Mr Wayne stands up and checks his pocketwatch. “Alfred will be here any moment. Dick, go and get your things.”

Not much to get. A couple changes of clothes, some things of his parents'. Beyond that Dick doesn't own anything, so it doesn't take long to grab all of it and hurry out to the porch where Mr Wayne is waiting for him. “Got everything?”

Dick nods and Mr Wayne smiles, a little awkwardly. The sound of a horse and carriage coming their way draws Dick's attention and he can't help but stare in amazement. Certainly he could tell from Mr Wayne's clothes that he's rich, but the carriage just drives the point home. It's got a wide seat, big enough for two people and padded with some kind of red cushions, just behind a seat for the driver. The body of it is painted white and gold with complicated designs on the sides, there's a collapsible roof made of some fancy, black material, and the horse pulling it is pure white. The man at the reins is wearing a fancy suit too, he's maybe a little older than Sheriff Gordon and gives Mr Wayne a surprised look as the tall man draws near the carriage with Dick in tow. “Will we be having a guest at the manor, Master Bruce?”

“Yes, Alfred, it seems like it's for the best.” Mr Wayne says, putting Dick's things in the back of the carriage.

Dick scrambles up into the seat behind Alfred, not really sure if there was anything he was supposed to wait for. Seems like nobody minded though, Mr Wayne just walks around behind the carriage to the other side, while Alfred turns to Dick and gives him a smile. “Hello, young sir, I am Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce's butler.”

“Hello.” Dick responds, nervously. “I'm Richard Grayson… you can call me Dick though.”

Alfred nods. “A pleasure to meet you. Well then, Master Bruce, shall we be on our way?”

“Mm.” Mr Wayne grunts an affirmative as he sits down in the seat next to Dick, then looks up at the sheriff, who's standing on the porch. “Take care of yourself, Jim.”

“You too, Bruce, Alfred.” He gives Dick a brief wave. “You keep an eye on them for me, Dick, make sure they behave themselves.”

Dick grins for a moment and waves to the sheriff. “I will. Good-bye, Sheriff Gordon.”

Alfred tilts his head a bit in a farewell to the sheriff, then clicks his tongue and tugs on the reins. The horse snorts and begins moving along the road without any further prodding.

It's kinda surprising to see that Alfred isn't even carrying a whip, like most people do when driving a carriage. It seems weird but Dick is a bit too nervous to ask about it so he just sits and watches the scenery pass by as they leave the town and head out into the wilderness. Mr Wayne had pulled a book out of nowhere the moment they'd gotten out of town and now seems perfectly content to let the silence drag on. At first Dick doesn't mind the quiet, he's not sure what he'd even say if one of them did speak to him, but pretty quickly he starts to wish they'd try anyway. Silence isn't exactly something he's used to.

He's halfway to blurting out something, anything to start a conversation, but instead he lets out a startled squeak when the carriage jolts, making him bounce a good inch off the seat. Almost immediately he feels Mr Wayne grab his shoulder like he's afraid Dick is about to fall out of his seat. Alfred pulls the horse up and turns slightly as Mr Wayne asks Dick, “Are you alright?”

Dick feels a bit embarrassed, but nods and answers, quietly, “Yes,… it just surprised me.”

“Ah, I see… surprised me too,” the tall man says with a hesitant smile. Without another word he rescues his book from where it had fallen and goes back to reading.

Alfred shakes his head and gets the horse moving again with a click of his tongue. “It's not much further now, Master Richard.”

“Uh, just… just 'Dick' is fine.” Dick responds, softly.

The butler chuckles. “Of course, Master Dick.”

“…Is the manor a nice place?” Dick asks after a minute.

Alfred hums thoughtfully. “I think so.”

“Are there a lot of horses there?” Now that he's started Dick can't stop himself from asking questions.

Nodding Alfred responds, “Quite a few, certainly, though you'll forgive me if I don't know the exact number. Mr Fox takes care of them for the most part, you understand.”

“Thirty.” Mr Wayne states without looking up from his book. “There are thirty horses in the stable.”

Dick turns to his new guardian. “Do they all have names? Does this one have a name? Can I meet them all?”

“Uh…” Mr Wayne finally takes his eyes off his book, looking completely caught off guard as he tries to answer Dick's questions. “Yes, most of them have names… You can meet a few of them if you want… this one's name is Lady.”

“She's really pretty!” Dick says, happily.

Mr Wayne nods. “Yes, I suppose she is.”

***

Never in all his life has Dick seen anything like Wayne Manor. It's huge, towering over the plants and trees of the garden near it's walls. Dick gapes at it as the carriage comes to a halt in front of the large steps up to the wooden doors. Even as he's climbing out of his seat to the ground he can't help but stare up at the building in awe. The sound of footsteps and a kind, if tired, greeting finally draws Dick's attention away from admiring the place he's going to be staying for a while. The new person is a smallish man who immediately starts talking to Alfred. Dick turns to Mr Wayne. “You live here?”

“Yes.” The tall man responds as he takes Dick's things out of the carriage.

Dick shakes his head in amazement. “You have to be the richest person in the world!”

“Oh he thinks he is,” laughs the stranger, taking Lady's reins from Alfred as the butler hops down to the ground.

Mr Wayne rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Lucius.”

“My pleasure, Mr Wayne.” Lucius responds with a grin. “Now if everyone has everything they need I'll be taking Lady back to the stables for a well-deserved brush down.”

Mr Wayne nods and waves him on. “Take good care of her.”

“When have I ever not?” Lucius says, with mock offense, before clicking his tongue and turning Lady away from the house.

Turning back to Dick, Mr Wayne explains, “That was Lucius Fox, he takes care of the horses and the grounds. I'll introduce you to him properly later.”

“Oh… okay.” Dick turns back to the manor, then looks up at Mr Wayne with what he hopes is a mournful expression. “Can we go in now? I want to see what it looks like inside?”

Mr Wayne nods. “Alright, let's go. Need any help, Alfred?”

“Sir, if I did not require your assistance in loading these things into the carriage, what makes you think I would need it now?” Alfred asks with one eyebrow raised, without waiting for a response he walks past them and up to the door.

Shrugging and looking a little put out, Mr Wayne mumbles, “Just thought I'd ask.”

Dick giggles and follows the tall man up the stairs to the door that Alfred left open for them. The inside of the manor is just as amazing as the outside. Dick can't wait to start exploring all of it. Alfred catches him by the shoulder before he can dash off down the hallway though. “Before you begin your inevitable adventures, young sir, let me at least show you to your room.”

“Oh, um… alright.” Dick looks down at the foodstuffs now sitting on the floor near the door. “But what about that stuff?”

Alfred smiles. “I assure you, Master Dick, there is nothing in there that will not keep until after I have gotten you settled in your new room. Master Bruce, I can take Master Dick's things. I imagine you have some business to attend to after your visit with the sheriff.”

Mr Wayne hands over the things, without argument. “I'll be in my study if you need me.”

“Of course Master Bruce.” Alfred responds then gestures for Dick to walk with him.

When they're out of Mr Wayne's sight Dick looks up at Alfred and asks. “What sort of business does Mr Wayne do?”

“Master Bruce does a great many things,” Alfred answers as he directs Dick up the stairs. “Most of it is merely paperwork. Quite dull, I'm afraid. Come along.”

Dick puts a little hop in his step to keep up with the older man, but he still takes the time to look about. The walls are lined with huge paintings of people who look like Mr Wayne and expensive looking pieces of art. Dick's a little unnerved by it all, feels like all the people in the paintings and statues are watching him. “Um… can I ask… what do you do Mr Pennyworth?”

“You may call me 'Alfred', Master Dick, I do not mind.” Alfred smiles kindly at Dick. “As for your question, I serve mainly as the Wayne house's butler… though I admit my duties have become somewhat more varied in recent years. Mainly I cook, clean, and see to it that Master Bruce does not become so wrapped up in his work that he forgets the rest of the world exists.”

Confused, but still a bit wiser, Dick mumbles, “Oh, I see…”

“Ah, here we are.” Alfred stops in front of a solid wooden door and opens it up. “I aired this room out and cleaned it not two days ago, so it should be acceptable.”

Dick cautiously follows the butler into the room and looks around. It seems mainly bare, compared to everything else Dick has seen in this house, but it's still far fancier than what Dick's used to. The bed is huge, covered in a large, black blanket with white sheets and an incredibly soft looking pillow. There's a short dresser on the far side of the bed and a small stand with a fancy kerosene lamp sitting on it on the other side. A comfortable looking chair sits beside a small table near the window, bathed in the midday sun shining between the open curtains. Everything seems so nice and just screams wealth, but Dick finds the colors a bit off. They're so dull. Grays, blacks, and whites with the occasional brown. For a kid used to the bright colors of the circus it's a bit jarring.

Alfred puts Dick's things on the bed and claps his hands together. “Well, young sir, I believe I'll leave you to get settled while I go get started on lunch. Is that alright?”

“Yes.” Dick says with a smile. “I'll be okay.”

Alfred nods. “Then I will come and find you when food has been prepared.”

With that the butler leaves and Dick's alone in the room which abruptly feels impossibly big. He peeks out the window, just to see what's out there. The gardens, then just empty plains for miles. Not much to see. He turns back to the room. His room. His very own room. Not a hammock in a train car or a long room filled with other children. It's all wonderful and he's grateful to Mr Wayne, but somehow it feels so hollow.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, staring down at the patterned rug. Except he's not really looking at the rug, because all of a sudden all he can think about is his mother's voice, his father's laugh, and how he'll never hear either of them ever again. It hurts so much. All he wants is to wake up and find out that this has all been some kind of horrible dream.

But it's not. His parents are gone. Every day he's going to wake up here in this soft bed, surrounded by all these nice things and he's going to remember that he's never going to see his parents again. The only life he's ever known is gone and he'll never be able to go back.

**Author's Note:**

> Not done yet! Stay tuned!


End file.
